Let’s be honest here

Sex. I like sex, you like sex, we all love sex*. Sex.

We also all love good sex, and in a university intent on forcing us into celibacy with its appalling nightlife, small beds and lack of free time it’s essential that we find ways of dodging the various pitfalls and issues that sex in Cambridge tends to present.

Remember, we should all be able to have mediocre sex.

1) Make sure you definitely know the name of the person you are sleeping with.

It does not do to – in the throes of passion – whisper somebody else’s name into your partner’s ear. It somewhat dampens the mood and in my experience leads to no sex, and occasionally some angry spooning.

To avoid this ask them to repeat their name to you, and think of a few words that rhyme with said name. If they are called Jane look them dead in the eye and shout ‘Jane, it rhymes with pain, train, weight gain and slain. Jane’. This shall assure them, and yourself, that you are definitely not a serial killer and that you will be capable of passable sexual intercourse.

'Get your Reek on', it rhymes with 'Get your Freak on'

‘Get your Reek on’, it rhymes with ‘Get your Freak on’

2) Make sure that you are well hydrated.

Dehydration leads to cramp, and cramp leads to bad sex. On one occasion a spate of crippling calf spasms had me screaming and swearing into my lovers face before I fell to the floor and rolled around like Ashley Young with a chipped toenail. Insult was added to injury as I was informed my cramp induced contortions provided the best sex of the night.

If you’re really bad at sex then cramps could, possibly, add some spice to the proceedings. In all likelihood however they’ll leave you with a limp, and a lingering feeling of sexual ineptitude.

The face your partner will see as you cramp up.

The face your partner will see as you cramp up.

3) Food intake is also essential if you wish to have good sex.

Mens Health will tell you to eat pineapple to alter the taste of your fluids (ejaculate, if that wasn’t explicit enough) or bananas for a healthy erection. Cosmopolitan might prescribe red wine and chocolate to women to get blood flowing to all the right areas. Naturally, my advice is not as sophisticated. From my experience it isn’t what you eat, it’s how much.

Too little and you might get fatigue and cramp up, too much and the road ahead is a lonely one, and one of shame. A romantic night of mine was ruined when I opted for a chocolate fondant that quite frankly crossed the line into excess. My stomach was distended and in spite of my rotund silhouette, sex was still on the cards.

She hopped on top and then it happened. I let rip a humongous, earth shattering fart. Luckily for both of us the humiliation wasn’t over as my indigestion did not stand up well to the stresses and strains of foreplay and I had to lie down on the floor for an hour whilst my stomach provided the most mood destroying soundtrack possible of churns, gurgles and occasional breaking of wind. I successfully ate my way to being sexually incapacitated. Remember this the next time someone offers you the last few spring rolls in Sesame.

Why is food so good?

Why is food so good?

Now it’s an obvious truth that sex with a regular partner is better than a one night stand, but hey, relationships aren’t exactly easy and eventually the long days working in libraries take their toll. If you do decide to opt for the one night approach, the best piece of advice I can offer is:

4) Avoid the graveyard shift.

From maybe 2am onwards if you’re still looking for someone it’s probably best to cut your losses and leave. Only the ridiculously desperate people will still be trawling Cindies until closing time and they do not make for good sex. Sex is a game of two halves (or multiple other fractions, let’s not forget the polyamorous community) and for it to be good you need to work together. The post 2 o’clock Cindies pull is out for self-gratification, and self-gratification only, and it takes two to bango.

My foray into this world of selfish sex was passionless, rapid, extremely vigorous, and painful. My neighbour informed me that it sounded like two foxes fighting over the remnants of a KFC bargain bucket, and that sentence effectively sums up my experiences of one night stands in Cambridge. Good sex is hard to come by, and you’ll struggle if you believe the Cambridge nightlife holds the keys to your satisfaction.

Good sex you must have

Desperate sex? Avoid you must!

So there we have it, your very own guide to having relatively okay sex in Cambridge.

You’ll have to contend with crumbling walls, poor soundproofing, bad mattresses, single beds, a Uni-wide insistence on eating curry before a night out, fairly rank clubs and an anti-social amount of work, but if you follow my advice you too can have sex in Cambridge, and it just might be not completely terrible.

*Or not – that’s cool too.